Ms Swift
by fantasyxfreeme
Summary: Whenever Miley needs advice, her favorite person to go to is her English Lit teacher, Ms. Swift. oneshot. femslash. miley/taylor. i should kill myself


**okay...so i'm pretty sure i have to kill myself for writing this. like right now. and it has to be painful. REALLY effing painful. hannah montana-verse/real world cross. but i'm not putting it in crossovers. **

**disclaimer: *sigh* don't own nuthin. promise.**

If someone had told Miley a few years back that her favorite class as a high school senior would be AP English Literature, she would have told them they were "nuttier than a squirrel turd" or something to the like. However, she couldn't help but enjoy the classes. Yeah, there was a lot of careful reading, a lot of essays, and a lot of lectures, but Miley never complained.

And she certainly never told anyone that her interesting in the class had originally spawned from her teacher, Ms. Swift.

She'd happened to walk by Ms. Swift's classroom the previous April, while the juniors were in the midst of signing up for the classes they planned to take the next year. Miley glanced through the open door and stopped. A woman, seeming to be in her mid-early twenties was sitting on her desk with her legs crossed, talking to a few students who were feverishly copying whatever she was saying. Miley quickly read the information posted by the woman's door, and found that she taught AP English Lit.

Miley couldn't help but sign up.

Currently, she was sitting in her desk, leaning on her arm as she stared up at the front of the class. Her phone buzzed every few minutes with ignored texts from Lilly, but she made no move to take it out. Ms. Swift was sitting on her favorite teaching stool in the front of the class room. Her lips were curled into a soft smile, her light blonde hair pulled back into a neat but loose bun. In her hand she held a copy of Shakespeare's The Tempest, her other hand left open, for which she used it go gesture as she spoke.

Unfortunately for Miley (and more importantly, her grades) Ms. Swift looked rather attractive today, and so her lecture fell on deaf ears. Miley had rememberd to scribble down a couple of things here and there, but the lecture as a whole had been pretty much lost on her.

The bell rang moments later, breaking Miley of her stupor, and bringing with it, her daily disappointment of having to leave English Lit. She stood, blinking and trying to clear her mind, and began packing her things. She had managed to gather just about everything and was turning to leave, when a rather heavenly voice broke the silence.

"Miley, do you have a minute?"

The surprised southerner turned to see Ms. Swift, standing by her desk with that smile on. Miley's words caught on her tongue as they tried to escape.

"Uh- y- yeah. Of course, Ms. Swift," she managed. She watched as her teacher leaned back to sit on the desk next to Miley's, waiting until more students were gone.

"Miley, I'm just concerned, you looked a little spaced out today, is everything okay?" Ms. Swift asked, reaching up to brush beautiful blonde bangs from her eyes.

Miley swallowed. "Was it that obvious?" she asked.

Ms. Swift chuckled. "No, but I know how pretend to listen pretty well, so I picked up on it. Anything wrong?"

Miley shook her head. "N- no, nothing. B- but I'll let you know if something comes up..." _Wow, good job, Miley. That doesn't sound lame or anything...Get your head out of her curls and go to Biology! _

The next time Ms. Swift and Miley directly talked was a few months later. Miley shoved her phone in her pocket as the bell rang, and gathered her notebook into her arms, along with her partly-read copy of The Narratives of Frederick Douglass.

"Miley." and she heard the voice again. "You had your phone out the entire class. I didn't take it because it looked like it was important, but next time, can the conversation wait?"

Miley blushed. "How-"

Ms. Swift laughed as she crossed her room to put her textbook on her bookshelf. "I've had some practice hiding my phone when I want to talk during meetings and things like that. Just keep it in your pocket next time."

Miley nodded, looking down. She didn't usually text during class that fervently, but today was different than most days. And she was talking to Lilly.

Ms. Swift raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"

"Y- yeah, I just...I was on my phone because..." she paused, chuckling at how she sounded absurdly like a lovesick teenager. "Because I just got into a relationship yesterday. So we're kinda stuck on each other. Sorry."

Ms. Swift laughed louder, shaking her head. Her golden curls bounced with the rhythm of her head. She reached down to absentmindedly smooth out the wrinkles in her light blue sweater. A sweater that Miley couldn't help but notice really brought out the blue in Ms. Swift's eyes. "Oh, i see. Do you mind me asking who you're dating?"

At this, Miley was silent. For a good few minutes. Only did Ms. Swift's prodding eyes break her of her thought process. "Umm...You- you know h- them. They're in your 6th period class."

"Oh? Who?"

"...Lilly Truscott..."

Miley waited for some reaction. She waited to be thrown from the classroom, told to go down to the principal's for a schedule change. But it never came. Not even a second after Miley's revelation, without batting an eye, Ms. Swift answered,

"Yes! Lilly, she's an excellent student. Maybe she can help you pay attention to my lectures?" she said with a chuckle.

They both looked up as the warning bell rang.

"Shoot!" Miley said, turning to run. "I'm _never_ gonna make it to Biology on time!"

"Wait, I'll write you a pass," Ms. Swift said, turning to grab a sticky note and a marker from her desk. She quickly scribbled on it before handing it over. "Ms. Thomas and I get each other, just show her this and you'll be fine."

Miley nodded, thanked her, and left. Halfway to her destination, she read what the pass said. Pink appeared on her cheeks.

_Having girl talk with Miley after class :) Sorry! __  
__-T Swift_The next time they spoke at length, Miley was the one who approached her teacher. It was after school, a few weeks after their previous conversation. She peeked in through the door and saw Ms. Swift bent over a stack of essays on her desk, a red pen in hand. Miley timidly knocked, not wanting to disturb her.

Ms. Swift looked up, quickly smiling. "Hi, Miley. Come on in," she said, quickly capping her pen and placing the essays to the side. "What can I do for you?"

"Um...I...I have something I need to talk about...I'm not really sure why I came...here..."

"I think you studder in most of our conversations," Ms. Swift mused, raising her eyebrows. Miley laughed, glad the ice was broken for the moment.

"It's, ah, Lilly," she started. Getting the nod from her teacher, she continued. "We've been having some issues...We've been fighting a lot."

"Not to sound like Dr. Love or anything, but when was the last time the two of you spent some time together? Just you?" Ms. Swift asked, beginning to chew on her pen cap. Miley couldn't help but notice that she had perfect teeth.

She tried to think back. "Not recently, that's for sure..."

Ms. Swift shrugged. "It may not solve everything, but it would probably help if you two just hung out alone. Talk like you used to." she paused here, leaning forward and cupping her hands around her mouth. "Baking really helps," she whisper-yelled.

Miley laughed dispite herself. "Baking? Really?"

Ms. Swift nodded. "Definitely! I bake all the time. It's a great stress reliever. And it's yummy! Here," she turned in her spinning chair to dig something out of the bottom drawer of her desk. She pulled out a small index card with careful and neat writing on it. "This is my favorite snickerdoodle recipe. Try it."

Miley smiled. It was soft, genuiine. Not nervous like a lot of her smiles directed at Ms. Swift had been up to that point. She carefully took the card in her fingers. "Thank you"

Ms. Swift smiled back. Her gorgeous, breath-taking smile. She stood from her chair, enveloping Miley in a soft hug. Miley couldn't help but observe that she smelled like apple, that her arms and torso were warm, and how perfectly they seemed to fit together. "Good luck," Ms. Swift sait, letting her go.

Roughly one month later, in March, Miley stalked grumpily into Ms. Swift's classroom. Her teacher was sitting, looking away from her, at her computer, reading an email.

"Your first name's Taylor?" the words were out of Miley's mouth before she had time to think. Ms. Swift turned around, jumping slightly at the sudden voice.

She quickly collected herself, chuckling at the sudden-ness of the question. "Yes it is."

"...'S nice..." Miley mumbled, realizing how stupid she sounded. "I'm sorry to barge in..."

Ms. Swift waved a hand at her as if to say "no big" and closed her email. "No problem. Something on your mind? Lilly again?"

Miley nodded. "I think we're done...we're just not the same as a couple...She was my best friend and I want that part of her back."

Ms. Swift stood, facing Miley and placing a gentle, warm hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes things just can't work out. And not even baking can fix things after a while." she walked over, closing her door to make sure they weren't overheard.

"I just...I wanted things to work! I tried to hard to make them work! I tried to spend time with her and I tried to fix things she was upset about but she just kept saying I was so different like I never loved her at all and I loved someone else," Miley said, tears building and threatening to fall. She wiped furiously at her puffed-up eyes. They spilled, gliding gracefully down her cheeks, leaving a wet, salty trail in their wake.

Ms. Swift carefully reached up to wipe the tears away with her thumb. She cupped Miley's face with both hands as she dried them. They said nothing, Miley continuing to cry and Ms. Swift continuing to look at her carefully, and wipe her face when necessary. Miley's arms somehow ended up around Ms. Swift's waist, as she buried her sad, scrunched-up face into her chest. Ms. Swift hesitantly let her arms snake around Miley's torso, holding her secure. She flipped her blonde curls out of her eyes.

Taylor let her head begin to drop. Her lips touched the top of Miley's head. Miley's crying subsided, and they stayed that way for some time before she looked up at her teacher. Taylor's lips stayed attached, and were now gently skimming her forehead. Her eyes closed.

"Miley..." Taylor whispered. "How old are you?"

And Miley answered in a whisper, "18."

At this, Taylor detached her lips from Miley's forehead, and moved them down to crash onto her lips. They stayed frozen in that position for a moment, before Miley's eyes closed. Their mouths moved in unison, and eventually, Miley's tears were forgotten.


End file.
